


Fall Festival

by LisaLu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fallen Castiel, M/M, Post-Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 19:52:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LisaLu/pseuds/LisaLu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam, Dean, and Cas visit a fall festival on their way home from a hunt. Sam contemplates his brother's relationship with the recently fallen angel and has a well needed talk with Cas about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall Festival

Sam opened the motel room door and was greeted by a pleasantly brisk wind. The air was filled with the smell of nature slowly winding down from a bustling summer and preparing for a lengthy slumber. Sam looked over his shoulder to see his brother stuffing the last stray shirts into his duffel bag. Cas was standing next to him waiting patiently. They shared a small smile when Dean stood up and clapped Cas on the shoulder. 

The familiarity of leaving another crappy motel after a successful hunt and the strangeness of these easy smiles so casually shared made Sam smile a little. After they were reunited with a fallen Cas and the _“angels roaming the earth and Abaddon on the loose”_ -thing was somewhat under control it felt like the atmosphere had shifted slightly. Dean smiled more freely and Cas felt more like he was at peace with himself than he had in a long while. Sam saw it all unfold before his eyes. It was new, it was different, it was better. 

The three of them made their way to the car, the orange leaves crunching under the pressure of their soles. Dean complained loudly about the motel as he walked. Leaving behind the bunker meant leaving behind the comfort of perfect water pressure and central heating. It was only temporary, only as long as the next hunt lasted, but both brothers had seen enough dingy motel rooms for a life time and wanted nothing more to be back at their home base. It was funny how quickly the bunker had become some sort of _home_ to them, especially to Dean. Sam could see himself moving out in a couple of years, get married and have kids. But Dean had really found his home there. Sam would visit his brother and Cas at the bunker to do research and help with cases. He would bring over his kids and uncle Dean would play with them while daddy discussed mythology and lore with uncle Cas. Sam didn’t question why in his self-indulgent day dreaming his brother and Cas were still living in the bunker together. Some things just seemed right. 

The Impala’s engine roared and Sam stared out of the window. Dean hummed along to the music playing from the decades old cassette tapes. Cas was half asleep in the back, lack of morning coffee taking its toll. The yellows and oranges of fall flashed by as they drove back _home_. Sam wasn’t sure why, but he was hit by a crashing wave of melancholy inspired by the transience of fall. For all that they have lost and fought for, they never really changed. Dean driving, Sam riding shotgun, and a poor excuse for an angel in the back. It would’ve been so easy to give up on the world when monsters didn’t stop existing when your dad checked under your bed. But they didn’t. For all that they became and for all that was taken from them, their essence remained the same. Underneath all that crap and all that baggage the three of them were _good_. It’s taken too much self-destruction and too much misguided penance for Sam to realize this. He always knew Dean was good, not just a good little soldier. He always knew Cas was good, even when he was bad. He didn’t always know he was good, but he can allow himself to have a little faith now. With God gone and angels alight with rage it is easier to believe in his own goodness than before. 

Sam laughed at himself quietly; fall made him ridiculously philosophical sometimes. He didn’t laugh quietly enough to go unnoticed, because Dean turned his head towards him. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked with a curious grin. 

“Nothing,” Sam let out a small breath of laughter, “I was just thinking this is nice, you know?” 

“What?” Dean said with a hint of amusement and motioned towards the back of the car, “We’ve got a fallen angel with a price on his head in the back and a freaking knight of hell after our asses. I know our definition of ‘nice’ is a bit messed up, but come on!” 

Sam sighed. Dean had a point. For all that things were better now they could go to shit just as fast. Still, he didn’t think he was being unreasonable in feeling like things were looking up for once. The stakes were still high, perhaps even higher than ever, but they had small moments like this to take a breather and slow down. They had a home base now. A place where Sam could work and find his own place in this world. A place Dean could call home with people Dean could call family. A place Cas could finally _stay_. It wasn’t perfect, but when were things ever perfect for them? 

The road stretched out before them, tall trees in their full fall glory surrounding them on both sides. The music had stopped and silence filled the car. Dean let out a deep sigh from the driver’s seat. 

“You know what Sammy?” Dean said, “You’re right.” 

Sam’s eyebrows shot up in disbelieve. Did Dean just say he was _right_? 

“I’m not saying it again, ok?” Dean continued, “But yeah, it’s nice. It’s nice not to live from crappy motel room to even crappier motel room. I mean, I have a room that doesn’t smell like stale pee.” 

_It’s nice to have a home._ Dean didn’t need to say it out loud for Sam to understand. 

Cas was snoring loudly in the backseat now and Dean glanced at him through the rearview mirror. Sam knew he shouldn’t push things, so he pretended to miss the softness in Dean’s expression. How an angel brutally banned from his own home in heaven could become the center of someone else’s home on earth is a miracle Sam hasn’t worked out yet. He turned in his seat slightly to see Cas fast asleep with his eyes shut tight and face pressed against the window. It’s hard to have faith in a God that isn’t there, but it’s easier to have faith in his creations. 

They drove miles without seeing any traffic. These chilly Sunday mornings weren’t everyone’s cup of tea. People were still lying in their beds, cooking breakfast for their loved ones, or in church praying to a God they’ll never meet. Sam felt himself dozing off to the soothing sound of the engine, until he heard a voice speak up from the back of the car. 

“Mountain Harvest Festival.” 

Sam turned around to look at Cas, who was staring intently at a flyer in his hands. He must have picked it up at the motel. Cas handed the flyer to Sam with a look saying “please Sam can we conspire against Dean so that we can go here?” The big letters on the front were printed in obnoxious shades of orange and yellow and said _Mountain Harvest Festival. Enjoy 3 sparkling autumn days of music, art, performance, good food and local products._ Despite the flyer’s gaudy design it did seem like a nice place to visit and they’d have to stop for food anyway. Besides, Sam needed little convincing when it came down to organic produce. 

“Hey Dean,” Sam said, “This actually looks quite nice. We could go grab some food for the road, maybe have a look around and-“ 

“Forget it!” Dean protested, “We’re not going to waste our time at some kind of organic, free-range, hippie alfalfa festival.” 

Sam rolled his eyes; for a guy who loves to make home cooked meals in his spare time Dean sure did seem to have an aversion to organic produce. Sam was ready to start the daunting task of talking Dean into it, but before he could even say a word Cas beat him to it. 

“Dean, we _need_ to go to the festival.” 

“Cas,” Dean said, “We _need_ to breathe air, we don’t _need_ overpriced apples and overly cheery families.” 

Cas glared at Dean through the rearview mirror as indignantly as possible with his hair a disheveled mess thanks to his nap. It seemed to do nothing to persuade Dean, but Sam noticed his expression had softened a little, his frown smoothed out and a small smile playing at his lips. Although Cas had lost the ability to heal all of their physical ailments with the touch of a finger, he still had a healing effect on Dean. Under these circumstances Sam could see how glaringly _human_ the effect was. 

“Dean, please.” Cas pleaded. 

“Sorry buddy, no dice.” Dean said, “I’m done with this place. I just want to go home and take a long ass shower that doesn’t turn freezing cold 2 minutes in.” 

“You can still take a shower an hour later.” Cas said matter-of-factly, “We need to eat and there are many vendors that sell food there. I don’t see the problem, Dean.” 

“I don’t know man…”Dean said. Sam could see his determination crumble before his own eyes. What Cas was saying made sense, but Dean’s stubborn refusal to enjoy things like seasonal festivals wasn’t without reason either. Sam got it, he really did. When they were growing up they were never exactly part of the regular life. It’s easier to dismiss these kinds of festivals as stupid and not worth your time than to mourn the life you’ve never had. It’s easier to not want than to regret not having. But maybe, with all that has changed, this could change as well. 

“They have a pie contest and tasting.” Cas said finally. 

And with that it was decided. 1-0 for Team Cas. They were going to the festival and Dean would grumble about it along the way, but it was more out of stubbornness than anything else. Cas thanked Dean quietly and privately. Dean tried to suppress a smile and failed miserably. They caught each others’ eyes in the mirror. Sam would’ve rolled his eyes at how ridiculous they were being if he just weren’t so goddamn _pleased_. 

This could change as well. It had already changed. It was new, it was different, it was better. 

Sam had seen Dean at his lowest point, drinking and drowning himself in pools of alcohol and self-loathing. Sam had literally been a shell of his former self when he was without a soul, but it was so much more painful to see Dean tear apart layer after layer of his very essence until nothing was left but a cynical drunk high on anger and pain. Sam still didn’t know what went down in Purgatory exactly, but his brother came out a changed man. He saw his brother grow and become his own person more than he had been in a long time. Of course things weren’t perfect, self-destructive as they can get, but Dean was becoming _happier_. In the face of angels and demons and monsters he was the same hunter as ever, but in the face of his brother, his family, his home he was a changed man. Dean was becoming happier and so was Sam. 

Having Cas around helped. Not in the way that having Cas around used to help with hunting demons and fighting angels. Purgatory had felt like a reset button had been pushed for Dean, but when Cas had first stepped inside the bunker as a human? It was a good thing. Cas was resilient, he adapted to humanity quite well and surprisingly easy. Cas loved humanity and was fascinated by his new state, while at the same time quietly mourning his grace. And despite being a grumpy little man in the morning they loved having him around and Dean was noticeably less restless with Cas within arm’s reach. Cas had been looking for a home when heaven no longer fit the bill. Sam was glad they could be a part of his home now. 

The car came to a slow halt on a parking space covered in fallen leaves. The three of them got out of the car and could hear the sounds of festivities in the distance. Chatter of excited people who left the warm comfort of their homes to look at the stalls. Folk music performed with a passion reserved for those with simple lives without the fate of the world to worry about. Dean and Cas walked ahead and Sam trailed slightly behind, the sound of the crisp leaves under his feet mixing with the distant sounds of celebration. 

Once they’d arrived at the festival site they split ways. There were a couple of stalls; some selling fresh produce, some selling handmade trinkets, some with old-fashioned games to play for a small fee. Dean made a beeline for the pie tables, whereas Sam set out to buy some food for the road. He passed stalls of shiny apples, pumpkin spiced _everything_ , corn on the cob, and even a stand with freshly baked bread. Sam purchased what he needed and looked around to search for Dean and Cas. He noticed Cas first. 

He was sitting on a bench underneath one of the largest trees surrounding the festival site. The brilliant oranges and reds of the leaves surrounding him highlighted his living, breathing humanity. Cas was looking at all the people passing him by; families with children, young and excited couples, spouses who had shared their entire lives, artists looking for inspiration. He looked peaceful, he looked content. Maybe that’s why he was so set on coming here. Maybe he wanted to watch over humanity again. 

Sam carefully sat down on the bench next to Cas. The old wooden planks let out a weary creak at the added weight. 

“Hey Cas,” Sam said, “Enjoying yourself?” 

“Yes, thank you.” Cas replied softly and continued staring into the distance. 

Sam grabbed an apple from one of the big brown paper bags he had perched next to him on the bench and took a big bite. It was silent for a minute until Cas spoke up again. 

“I’ve watched humanity for millennia, but I don’t think I’ll ever get bored with it.” Cas said wistfully, “Even now that I am no longer an angel… humanity is still the most interesting of all in creation.” 

And what do you say to that? Anything Sam could say in response to that would fall flat. The scale on which Cas could talk about all of creation went beyond the imaginable for Sam. It’s easy to forget that their friend is older than humanity itself. His time as a human is like a drop of water in his bucket of life. 

“There is so much good in humanity, I don’t-” Cas hesitated, “I don’t understand why not all angels could see this.” 

Sam let out a little humorless laugh at this. That’s what it all started with, wasn’t it? He looked at Cas, who was still staring into the distance. Sam followed his line of vision and his eyes landed on a familiar figure leaning on the pie contest table. Dean was happily munching away on a piece of pie. Sam smiled at the sight and saw Cas was smiling a little too. 

“He’s happier now, you know?” Sam said. It wasn’t really a question because he was sure Cas could see it too. 

“Of course, he has his own room now. And showers with excellent water pressure, he was very happy about that.” Cas said matter-of-factly. 

“Cas.” Sam laughed, “That’s not what I meant! I mean, yeah, he loves his shower and his dead guy robe. But having you around really helps. I’m serious.” 

“I’m glad I can help in whatever way I can.” Cas said. It felt bittersweet. 

“I’m just saying, I’m not sure Dean would recover if you left for heaven again.” Sam said. 

A beat of silence. Cas looked down at his hands folded in his lap. The brisk wind rustled the trees, leaves falling down in fiery colors. 

“To be honest,” Cas started, “I don’t think I would either.” _But if duty calls, if I can fix things in heaven..._ were the unspoken words Cas didn’t need to utter. 

Sam leaned back against the bench and stretched out his legs before him. He looked up into the sky and watched the leaves tumble in the wind. He took a deep breath and felt the cold air filled his lungs. He was about to cross that very fine line he had set himself with regards to his brother and Cas’ _thing_. He wasn’t going to meddle, but he remembers the last time Cas was gone. He remembers seeing a Dean he never wanted to see again. 

“Cas, listen…” Sam said, “I know Dean isn’t always clear when it comes to, you know, feelings. But trust me… he needs you to stay with him, ok?” 

The words were out before Sam realized what he was doing. He was telling Cas, former angel who had already lived for thousands of years, what to do with the few years he has left as a human being. But it’s _Dean_ they were talking about and if there’s one thing Sam knew for sure is that Cas loved his brother as much as he did. He didn’t know if it was sad or just part of the Winchester life, but he was sure both Cas and himself would go as far as they could to make Dean happy, no matter how misguided the attempts may get. 

A few raindrops hit Sam’s face, waking him from his thoughts. It started raining softly and they saw the festival site slowly empty out. The white noise of rain falling down from the sky filled the silence that stretched between them. People were seeking shelter under the trees, nobody quite prepared for the sudden downpour. In the distance they saw Dean running towards them, shielding himself ineffectively from the rain by putting his jacket over his head. 

“I want to stay.” Cas said resolutely. “For as long as I can.” 

“Then you should tell him.” 

And that was the moment Dean reached them and the conversation was over. He complained about the rain and praised the pies he ate. The apple pie was the best he ever had. Sometimes things were simple for Dean Winchester, sometimes things were only as complicated as people made them. 

They waited until the rain slowed down and made their way back to the car. Dean and Cas walked ahead and Sam trailed behind slightly. Although it was impossible to know _exactly_ what was going on between his brother and Cas, Sam knew that it was so very important and so very fragile. All he could do was hope that when they got back to the bunker the two of them would talk. Just talk, for once. 

Their feet tread the leaf covered soil as they walked side by side. The raindrops fell on the ground, the smell of fallen leaves and heaven’s tears filled the air. 

They already had the _home_. Now to make it last. 

**Author's Note:**

> The Mountain Harvest Festival is an actual festival held in Colorado, but the festival described here has nothing to do with that event.


End file.
